Telltale Marker
by peepeeface
Summary: As she fiddles with the exquisite ring she has placed on a delicate silver chain around her neck, she reminisces about them. She licks her dry, cracking lips; a habit she has picked up from him, as her voice falls to unhearing ears six feet below the ground she is perched on...


I don't know if I'll continue this, but here's what I do have.

Disclaimer: I don't own HP.

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Slowly she seeks out the tell-tale marker, where elaborate designs have been carved into stone. Located in a remote haunt, most people do not tend to wander in that direction, drawn by some worldly notion that a Malfoy would be buried in in a highly embellished cemetery, but that was not like him. They simply did not know Draco Malfoy as well as Hermione Granger could.

She pulls out her wand, and with a smooth flick of the wrist, conjures up asphodels, the flower they dubbed exclusively theirs. Ironic, however, that the still budding flower she holds in her hand means regret. A languid sigh bubbles past her lips. Grimly, she smiles, and places the flowers gently in front of his gravestone.

There was so little to remember. They were always looking to the once promising future that is no more.

As she fiddles with the exquisite ring she has placed on a delicate silver chain around her neck, she reminisces about them. She licks her dry, cracking lips; a habit she has picked up from him, as her voice falls to unhearing ears six feet below the ground she is perched on.

"Oh, Draco. I've not once told you, but I do love you. It's a pity you aren't here to hear those words you've always pestered me about," she sighs. A breathy giggle escapes, as she brings her hand to cover her mouth; another habit she picked up on.

"I remember it as if it were yesterday; when you first told me you loved me. I was crying, but no longer do I recall the reason for those tears. It had been a long, tiring day, there is a hazy memory of an enraged Ron, and that's pretty much all I can remember about the day."

She shifts around for a while, looking uncomfortable, and in another swift movement, casts a wordless warming charm upon her body. "There, that's better." She hesitates before continuing, "I was a blubbering idiot. My mouth refused to form coherent words. You were at a complete loss!" She comically slaps her knee, seemingly enjoying her own humor, before adopting a more serious tone. "You said something I found offensive at the time, and as I reached to you to hit you, you looked me in the eyes, and said it."

She laughs. "I ran away! How could I not? You were always our enemy, and having you find me as I ran through the halls was a shock. I accepted your comfort, because, as of then, no one else seemed to care.

"Maybe that's how our tentative relationship started. It wasn't easy, as Pansy seemed unwilling to release her claim on you, and Astoria turned moony eyes onto you. I admit I was very jealous. Why would you, Draco Malfoy, ignore the attentions of a beautiful pureblood princess with hair that gleamed under the sun for a meager filthy little Mudblood with hair the color of poop?

"I remember when you met my little baby Muggle cousin during an outing of ours. She was entranced by your white-blond hair. Afterwards, she had told me that she wished our babies—"

Hermione's voice wavers slightly before continuing on. "Our babies would have hair the color of 'pee,' and not the color of 'poop,' as she so endearingly described. She wanted me to name our eldest daughter after her!"

She tilts her head back to lean on the cool, grey stone. "I miss you." A hand absently plays with the blades of grass surrounding the grave, as the other hand lands lightly on her stomach. "I thought about getting rid of the baby after you passed on. I couldn't do it, however. The baby is my link to you, your gift for me." She smiles forlornly, rubbing her stomach. "I'm now six months in. I'm keeping him. You were correct; the firstborn of all Malfoys are male. You would have smugly looked at me, saying in that infuriating tone of yours, 'I told you so!' I'm naming him Scorpio. I remember how partial you were for that name."

Her hand pauses, and she grows silent. "It's been five months, but it feels so much longer. I keep setting the table for two, before I remember that you aren't coming back." Her face scrunches slightly, though she could not say if it were from sadness. "When I wake, I keep pursing my lips for a kiss, as that was how you would wake me every morning. In the beginning, I absolutely detested that! It felt weird, being known I was being watched as I was asleep for Merlin knows how long! But I loved it, as I loved you."

A gentle breeze wafts by, and she shivers. "I just shivered, didn't I? It's funny, I don't even feel chilly. You used to place your robes on me whenever you felt that I was not warm. You were such a gentleman! Surprised me, it did, the first time it ever happened. The few males I had 'dated' before you were right gits in comparison to you. You claimed it was the 'pureblood mannerisms' before I hit you upside the head." Her face falls slightly, and her eyebrows knit together.

She straightens her clothes, configuring her jacket into a blanket. "Blood never mattered, but for us, it was difficult in the beginning. There was I, the epitome of all Muggleborns, and then there was you, who was basically the Prince of the Purebloods. 'How could you, you filthy Mudblood, taint the heart of my only son and heir!' That was the cry of your father as he first heard of our relationship." She smiles at the thought. "He warmed up considerably towards me as he learned I carried his grandchild. Those two years before we made love were absolutely comical! Your father is so childish, in his own rights. Remember that one dinner where he ordered my plate to be laced with extra spicy sauce? His face when he realized I adore spicy foods was priceless!"

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she continues. "Your mother was far more understanding. She doted on me, and we shared a bond far stronger than daughter-in-law and mother-in-law. She turned into the woman I considered a mother, as well as one of my most precious female friends."

She blows her unruly bangs from her face, as she pats her stomach. "From when Harry first rejected your handshake and up until your death, you never liked him, and same goes for Ron. It was so courteous of you to put up with their presence when they visited. Don't think you have me fooled, Draco. You quite enjoyed their antics, and the hustle and bustle of the Burrow. The look on your face as you discovered that they actually did not have a house elf!"

Chuckling softly, she conjures up a woolen hat with two large holes. "Remember finding these all over your house? You berated me gently for doing this. I always hoped that an elf would find it, therefore being released. Oh, how your elves hated me for as long as I made those silly hats! 'Mistress, mistress,' they would wail, 'Please, stop this! We so do like working for Master!' Of course, I never believed them until you proved me otherwise." She brightens up, seeming to remember something. "Oh, how I laughed when you introduced me to Booger and Snot, the twin elves. You had named them when you were a child, and they had felt ecstatic about their names! These two never liked me either for laughing at their names, even after I had stopped placing hats in different wings, and apologizing at least a hundred times!"


End file.
